


Queen of the Ashes

by lyn452



Series: Jonerys Week 2019 [7]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Murder, Choking, Dark, Dark Everyone and Everything, F/M, Hatred, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Violence, Whipping, mad queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: Day 7. Free Choice. Daenerys wins. Everyone else loses. Jon lives, much to his horror and displeasure.





	Queen of the Ashes

It had taken a lifetime. It had taken everything. But Daenerys had it now. The Iron Throne was hers. Not Aegon’s throne though, she had Drogon melt that ugly thing. She had reformed her throne with Drogon’s fire and old slavers’ chains imported from Essos. She was building her own world, might as well build her own throne to match. 

All Seven Kingdoms had fallen under her rule. The North had been the most stubborn, put up the most resistance, but she had taken great pleasure at burning Winterfell to the ground. Lighting the godswood on fire and watching it burn. It had been beautiful and glorious.

Jon hadn’t thought so. He’d tried to strangle her when she told him. She’d liked that. She preferred his anger than the broken, pathetic man in chains who begged her for death. She told him she wouldn’t be a kinslayer, but they both knew it was more than that. They both hated each other now, but the love was still there too. It was frustrating and terrible, but neither could quite give the other up.

Daenerys put her hand on her full womb. Their child was due any day now, the maesters told her. She often wondered what would become of her son or daughter’s father. Would he remain in chains for the entirety of the child’s life? Would it be kinder just to say that he’d died? She could make him a hero in the war against the dead. A child would like that, a father who was a hero to look up to. It was better than the truth. 

She had time to come up with an answer. Jon had time to change, to see the world she intended to create, to join her. She could break him. She would break him. His will was strong, but hers was stronger.

Crying interrupted her thoughts and she saw her Dothraki pulling some women and children along behind their horses. She watched the scene play out, one she’d seen so often, been on the wrong side of before, and felt nothing. 

Daenerys decided it was time to visit Jon in the dungeons again. Her Unsullied guard, already knowing her destination, went ahead to scout for her. They were used to this walk as they never left her side. Drogon was her best protector, but he couldn’t exactly protect her in the ruins of the Red Keep. She was working on rebuilding the castle, but it was slow, especially as she wanted something grander than anything Westeros currently offered. 

She was rebuilding the greatness of Valyria, not just reclaiming Westeros. Her dreams would guide her. 

The dungeons were loud with the cries of people. Daenerys hated to hear it. It was probably time to clean them out again, execute anyone who wasn’t willing to bow to her. Let the stubborn die in their old world if that’s what they chose. 

Outside of Jon’s cell, two guards positioned themselves outside of the door. Daenerys walked to the table that had been placed there a few months ago. Her fingertips traced the various instruments on it, before she grasped the flog. Jon had been particularly ornery on her last couple of visits. It was time to remind him of his place once more. 

The door to the cell opened and Jon didn’t even bother to look up. It annoyed Daenerys. Who did this worm think he was to ignore a dragon?

A treacherous thought broke through, “Wasn’t Jon a dragon as well?” No, Daenerys corrected immediately. He’d rejected that side of himself and made himself lesser. This was his own fault. He’d made his choices and he’d chosen poorly.

Daenerys pulled the braided leather straps through her fingers, restarting when she got to the balls at the end of the whip’s cords. Jon was still beautiful, even broken and bleeding. Perhaps even more so after she finished with him. She had grown to love the sight of him bleeding on the dirty floor, the blood mixing with the dirt and his own seed and her essence.

He could protest all he wanted, he could claim he hated her now and would kill her as soon as he could, but he still came every time she rode him. He liked the violence just as much as she did. That stupid northern honor the Starks had brainwashed him with simply made him think he shouldn’t like it. She would retrain him, make him into the dragon he was meant to be. She would kill the boy Ned Stark had raised and make him into a true Targaryen man. 

She ran the whip over Jon’s bare skin and he flinched at the touch. He looked up at her.

Jon’s grey eyes burned with hatred. It took Daenerys aback. She wasn’t sure why. He’d been like this since he found out that she’d burnt Winterfell (and the remaining Starks) down. Still, it made her doubt herself for a moment. 

No. If she looked back, she was lost. 

She flicked the whip across Jon’s scarred skin. He hissed in pain, as she’d picked a spot she’d been particularly harsh to earlier this week. It hadn’t healed yet. He deserved the pain. He had hurt her. This was just paying back what he’d given her. She’d given him everything she had and he’d only hurt her. So be it. She would hurt him too. 

That was love according to Jon Snow. Aegon Targaryen. Whatever his name was. 

She didn’t speak for several minutes, letting her whip speak for her. She would hurt him and then when she saw the tears in his eyes she’d comfort him, softly caressing the what she’d hurt. Then he would bark at her to leave him alone, and she’d return to punishing him. 

If Targaryens were all mad as she was constantly being told in this terrible place then it was just a matter of time before Jon cracked. 

When she tired herself out, she threw the whip away. Jon’s hoarse voice asked, “Why don’t you just kill me?”

“Kinslaying is a grievous crime, and we are family, Jon.”

He barked out a laugh, which lasted long enough to disturb Daenerys. “This is how you treat family?”

“While you were safe in Winterfell, I only had Viserys for family. Yes, this is how we treat family.”

“Mother of fucking dragons,” Jon growled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that a mother of monsters is a monster herself.” 

“Monster to some, savior to others,” Daenerys dismissed his assessment. 

Jon’s eyes focused on her pregnant belly. “I thought you wanted to make a better world for your child.” 

“I am.”

“How is the world better? You are a mad tyrant who kills anyone who disagrees with you. You think our child will appreciate being raised in a state of constant fear?” 

“You know nothing of growing up in fear,” Daenerys remembered running from assassin’s blades. Her entire life she’d lived in fear. No more. 

Jon swallowed and then said, “You’re making Maegor the Cruel look benevolent.”

“Well, I tried benevolence. You saw how that worked.” She remembered the looks of those northerners who hated her. Fine, they didn’t need to love her, but they would fear her. “Let them call me mad, cruel, I will change the world. I will force it to be better. I don’t care about the price or cost. Let them write my legacy as bad. I don’t care. I will break the wheel.”

Jon looked away from her. She let the silence settle around them for a moment. Daenerys observed how beautiful he was, even in this state. She decided that she must have him. She lowered her voice to a sultry tone, “Do you remember the boat? Do you remember the first time I sucked your cock? You told me it was the first time anyone had ever done that for you.” She knelt before him. “You have such a beautiful cock, Jon. Just like the rest of you. I want to taste it now.” 

He looked even more pained now then when she used the whip on him. “No, stop, Dany.” But he could do nothing, she had all of the control. 

She lowered his pants and took him into her mouth. Despite his protests, Jon grew hard. He hardened and moaned and eventually he came. She ignored his protests of sensitivity, working him up again, needing him hard, needing him. She wanted him, all the time, and now that she was queen she could have whatever she wanted. 

She removed her leather breeches and stood on her tiptoes to maneuver him into her. The placements had always been tricky but she’d learned to manage. She kissed him, and not surprisingly, he kissed her back. He may say no, but she knew he wanted this, wanted her. He always had. He might deny it, but he liked this as much as she did. The last time they’d done this, despite all his protesting, he’d begged her to get him longer chains so he could touch her. She’d granted the request.

He was taking advantage of her generosity now, caressing her back, her arms and her face, as she lost herself in the pleasure of riding his dick. His hands moved down from cupping her face to her neck.

Jon began to squeeze. At first Daenerys kind of liked it, but then it grew too tight. She tried to tell him to stop, to call out to her guard, but she couldn’t. Daenerys felt the fear she had thought she would never feel again overwhelm her. She began to hit him, to struggle to escape his grasp, but it was no use. 

Then her pregnant belly brushed against his as she felt the edges of her sight black. Jon’s eyes filled with tears and he let go just in time. He screamed, “Fuck!”

Daenerys coughed and gasped for air. The guards came rushing in at the noise and taking in the scene, restrained Jon. She looked up to watch, not trusting her voice to give the necessary orders. 

Jon’s eyes met hers. “I’m going to kill you once the baby is born.” 

“Not if I kill you first,” she croaked back.

She left the cell. Daenerys couldn’t come back here again, Jon needed to be on the next list of executions. He was too dangerous to leave alive. 

She continued to lie to herself, knowing she couldn’t kill him anymore than he could kill her. 


End file.
